Grin and Bare It
by Yourfunnylittlehat
Summary: Gotham has slipped back into it's old ways after the death of Harvey Dent. However, after convincing the doctors at Arkham that he's cured of his old ways, a familiar gruesome face is back on the streets. Criminals are running scared and a young reporter is assigned to delve into his world to see what's in store. Based mostly on the world created by Brian Azzarello and Lee Bermejo


The Grin and Bare It: A dank and dismal dance hall of the underground, frequented by mobsters, home to all sorts of diseases and vermin the good people of Gotham choose to pretend don't exist. It was one of the last places she thought she'd ever expect to venture into for a career boost. Getting the job had been easy. All a girl needed was a nice set of tits and body worth looking at. What her father would say if he could see her now. His little girl...not so little…not so clothed.

Wolf whistles welcomed her on stage. Since starting two weeks ago she had become somewhat of a crowd favorite. Not necessarily for the way her legs wrapped around the poll, or for the way her body swayed to the rhythm of the music, but because the sinners among sinners watching her knew…they knew there was something undeniably good about her. They wanted to find it. And crush it.

_I like this song…_

She thought wistfully to herself as the slow seductive beat started. She silently thanked her mom, as she did every time she stepped out on stage, for the years of dance lessons. They were the only reason she was picked for this gig anyways. She was the only one at the Gotham Buzz with more than a one-session-zumba-class experience with dancing. That, and the fact she was the only female on the writing staff. And you think the sex industry is sexist and outdated?

The Gotham Buzz was a small but influential news blog about the on goings of corruption in the city. Rather unbiased, the writing staff recently decided to do a feature project on the mobs that ran Gotham. Several writers were now undercover all around the city snooping around various seedy organizations. One writer was with a bank. The mob had so many branches of Gotham's financials it was amazing people still deposited money within city limits. Another was undercover at a pet store- a known front for drug smuggling…cliché, but not every crime boss can be a mastermind. Unfortunately, due to the death of the former DA Harvey Dent, criminal activity had sky rocketed in Gotham. Crooks were slipping through the cracks of the justice system, the streets weren't safe, and people had a right to know who was behind it all.

Her assignment was to try and investigate the plans set in motion by the former owner of the G&B. Having run the city into near chaos, he had been put away in Arkham Asylum, presumably forever…until a few weeks ago. Somehow he had convinced the doctors that he was cured of his 'temporary insanity'. She always knew psychiatrists were full of shit, but she at least hoped they were smart enough to tell when they were being lied to. But despite having worked in the club almost every night, she had yet to lay eyes on him. His boys would come and go, but he remained as elusive and unpredictable as ever.

What was he doing with his time? He was laughing at them, all of them; the ones who thought he was out of the picture forever. They had snatched everything; his blood money, his territory, and his power. But now he was back to shove their pride down their throats.

The song ended. She blew a kiss out into the audience and walked off stage.

"Warmed them up for you, Brie." She said walking past another woman about her age.

"You always know how to get them nice an rowdy." Brie laughed.

"Horny little boys are easy to manipulate." She called over her shoulder, grabbing a robe and covering herself with it. She pulled her tips out of her G-string and started counting.

_Three hundred…_

She added it to the stash of the tips she had made earlier in her shift. One thing she learned quickly was that if the clientele liked you, stripping was easy money.

"Benny, get me a tequila on the rocks." She said stepping up to the bar. Benny smirked.

"Good show tonight."

"Oh, you know I'm dancing for you Benny boy." She grinned.

"That's what you all say." He laughed setting the glass on the counter before her. "It's always 'Benny, you know it's all for you, Benny, you're so hot, Benny, we love you' But every night, Benny leaves alone."

She watched him pour the clear liquid before her.

"I'm just a cruel tease." She said, nodding her head in thanks.

"My wife would kill me anyways." He said, catching her eye and smirking before moving on to refill an empty glass further down the bar.

Benny the bartender, fifty-seven with a beer gut. He started working this gig a couple of years ago when the newly reinstated owner had purchased it. He was working that night he returned. Apparently, as a power move, the owner had skinned the acting manager, who had thought he could keep running the joint, alive…that was persuasive enough to convince every low life here to get down on all fours and spread 'em. That was how he started to regain control. Kill the leaders and make the others beg, like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy.

She wanted to know if this boss man was planning anything this week, which is why she was actually happy to have met Benny. Give him a nice smile and flirt with him occasionally and he would open up about everything. He thought she found his in depth knowledge impressive. Poor Benny. She waited for him to come back around, flashing him a toothy grin.

"Hey," a voice from behind her made her set her glass back down.

"Yeah Angelo?" She sniped. Angelo was a greasy faced weasel of a stage manager. He often got a little too hands-y with the dancers. She felt his hand on her shoulder.

"You're back on in five."

"I just finished putting my clothes back _on_." She said. Shaking his hand off and turning to look at him, "My shift ended twenty minutes ago."

"We need you back up there, Stacey never showed."

"Well that's shit for Stacey." She started to turn back around, but he grabbed her arm.

"Listen you little bitch, when I say dance, you fucking dance." He glared at her as she brushed his hand away, grabbed her drink, and downed it.

Setting it back on the bar, she got off the stool. Benny would have to wait. "You know, a _please_ would go a long way." She patted his cheek, "Oh, and I'm not fucking paying for Stacy's stage time."

Five minutes later she was back behind the curtain. She adjusted her black thigh highs for the umpteenth time, for some reason the garter belt she bought hadn't been working well. She'd have to bring it up to her clothing guy next time she went out for…work…clothes. Since she had to undress at the speed of light for this dance, Angelo would have to settle for a slightly more conservative outfit. Ah well, less was more, right?

She heard the beat of David Essex's _Rock On_ start up. That was her cue. She shook her hair slightly to give it more volume before slinking on stage. She gave the crowd a lazy smile as she wrapped herself around the pole once more. God she really wished her research would lead somewhere soon. She wanted more to report at the next meeting than the fascinating tips to drink ratio.

She looked out into the crowd, her eyes landed on the group walking through the front door. Her heart stopped. Scars. They were visible from the stage. They crept up his pale face forming a permanent demented grin. He and his group made their way to the back room near the stage As she swung herself around, she kept staring…she couldn't help it. Even from this distance she could tell he was tall. His long green hair fell into his face casting unnerving shadows, the effect created a sinister look. The seconds it took them to walk past dragged on for eternity as her wide eyes met his dark calculating gaze. They seemed to stare right through her, into the very depths of her soul. She felt completely exposed.

A smirk spread across his face as he watched her. A doe in the headlights…_How sweet_, he thought as Jonny Jonny opened the back room door for him.

She felt her breath return as she watched him disappear behind the doorframe. It was then she realized whom exactly it was she worked for…the man who had forced Gotham to its knees, the Harlequin of Hate, the Joker.

Hey guys! Thanks for reading! I'm actually pretty excited about this story. A few weeks ago I read my first Batman Begins/Dark Knight stories and they got me spiraling back into my obsession with Batman. So I've been reading the comic books and re-watching the movies. It was when I read the graphic novel titled: Joker that I really got inspired to do some writing of my own. So this story will borrow elements from Chris Nolan's world but really be set in the noir setting of that graphic novel. If you haven't read that you love the Joker as much as I do, (Who am I kidding, you're reading Joker fanfic, of course you love him as much as I do!) you should read it.

I hope you like the story intro and reviews are greatly appreciated! They help me as a writer which will help you as a reader! :D


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